Red Hot Photographs
by ezmac
Summary: ENTRY FOR THE PERV PACK'S PICSPIRATION RED HOT. A photoshoot turns into hot smut. Not ashamed.


I was laid out for him.

I loved these mini-photoshoots he would suggest.

When I saw the blood red corset, miniscule black underwear, and thigh-high stockings, I knew it was time for another one.

There was only a small note placed atop the corset:

_I will return in an hour—be ready for me. The studio is set._

_-Lover_

Gah. If I wasn't already wet from the sight of my outfit, I certainly was at his calling himself "Lover". We hadn't called each other that in about a month. Jesus.

I showered relatively quickly, but made sure to spend extra time shaving everything. He didn't like the extra hair anywhere, and I didn't want to displease him in any way.

What he didn't know, however, was that I'd gotten my hair dyed after work today—it was now a jet black reminiscent of Bettie Page. I knew how much he liked that old pin-up style look.

I carefully curled my hair to loose curls and waves, securing my favorite pin to my newly-darkened locks.

I slipped into the tiny underwear first, taking note of the distinct La Perla label. _Damn. He went all out for this one_.

The stockings were next. I indulged myself and slipped the first one on while my leg was propped against the chest at the end of the bed. I rolled the first stocking up my smooth leg slowly, luxuriating in the silky feel of it against my skin. The other was slowly slipped on in the same fashion, with me mentally preparing myself for my lover's intense gaze.

Getting the corset on was a bit of a challenge by myself, but I managed just fine. I loved the way it lifted and separated my breasts. The silky fabric felt heavenly against my skin—I felt entirely too sexy for just myself.

When I was clothed (or at least covered), I found my (and his) favorite pair of heels: patent leather black Christian Louboutins. The infamous red sole gave me that extra boost of sexy confidence I needed to please my lover in all the right ways.

My make-up was easy: red nails, red lips, smokey eyes. What else for a Bettie Page reincarnate?

I made my way slowly toward the "studio" and peered inside.

There, against a wall, was a small area covered with a white sheet, surrounded by lights and in front of a camera.

I was running my fingers over the soft fabric when I heard his voice behind me.

"Fucking Christ, you're gorgeous."

I peeked over my shoulder at him and winked.

"Did you color your hair?"

"Yes. Don't you like it?"

"Fucking hell, Bella, it's gorgeous!"

"Thank you. Don't you have some pictures to take?"

"Wha—Yeah. Yes. I do." He shook his head to clear it. He'd been staring directly at my chest after he did his initial sweep over my body. He started at my hair, taking note of its darker hue (_Good boy—I've taught you well_) before sliding his gaze downward, taking in every inch of my body with his darkened, seductive gaze. He'd smirked when he took note of the Louboutins, knowing exactly what he was going to use them for.

He positioned me easily.

I was flat on my back, leaning slightly off the pallet with my legs in the air, one propped atop the crown molding along the wall's edge and the other just resting against the wall itself; one hand on my hip, the other resting seductively along my neck and hair.

The pictures turned out perfect, I found out later.

My lover had had enough playing, though. Said it teased him too much to see my breasts nearly falling out of the corset while upside-down.

He disrobed me slowly.

He peeled my underwear down my legs, shoving his face into my soaked pussy ardently, licking, sucking, nibbling, loving. It was a good thing I was already lying down, or I'd have fallen on my ass completely.

My legs were shaking with the intensity of an oncoming orgasm, but my lover didn't cease his attack on my pussy. His hands, which were previously gripping my thighs, keeping me from closing them around his head, moved toward my hips, digging his fingertips into my flesh.

His tongue continued his assault on my sensitive skin. He probed and teased, sucking my labia into my mouth one at a time, licking them inside his mouth while his nose pressed into my clit every so often, making me jump and squeal.

His attention on my pussy was creating this most animal of sounds from my lips. Moans and grunts spewed from my throat, his name poured from my mouth in chants and calls.

I was so tightly wound, I was going to burst any second—

And he pulled back, chuckling darkly.

"You didn't think I was going to let you cum that easily, did you, baby? Surely you know how I like to do things in the bedroom."

I could only mewl and whimper. My pussy was throbbing with the excess of blood flowing around, and I wanted to get off, dammit!

He stood lithely, shedding his dress shirt, belt, shoes, and socks. When all he was left in was his undershirt and dress pants, he returned to my side, rubbing his hands up my stomach to my breasts, pinching and pulling and rubbing and massaging and driving me generally insane with pleasure.

He moaned his appreciation before lowering his head, setting his oral assault onto my nipples, causing me to moan loudly at the dual sensation of warmth and wet from his mouth.

My hands dove into his thick hair, tugging him closer to me, wanting a greater pleasure.

He pulled back again, shedding himself of his shirt and unbuttoning his pants.

"You know what I like, lover."

I immediately set to work. I yanked his pants and underwear down his legs, taking hold of his semi-flaccid cock and giving the tip a kiss and a lick, making him hiss.

I wrapped my hands around his base and squeezed a bit, gently, but with enough pressure to cause a bit of pleasure. The action yielded the expected response: his cock twitched and rose halfway, making me smile and look up at him the way he taught me. His expression was that of wanton pleasure and a tiny bit of pain, and his groan was enough encouragement to extend my smile to a sexy smirk.

My eyes stayed locked on his while I took him into my mouth slowly, moving back and forth while taking him into my mouth inch by inch.

When I was far enough down, I slurped my way back up, adding a soft suckling motion, causing his hips to jerk a bit, the way I discovered they were prone to do.

When he was fully hard, I brought out the big guns: I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked hard, licking my tongue all around his cock while bobbing my head a bit faster.

My pace was consistent, and his groans intensified and his breath shortened immediately.

"Shhhhit! Oh, fuck yes. Just like that, baby. Fucking Christ you suck my cock so fucking good. Jesus! Oh, yes, baby. So close."

As soon as he whispered out that he was close, I let go of him.

_Turnabout is fair play, baby_.

His eyes opened immediately, his nostrils flared, and his hands grabbed me and shoved me against the wall. _Yes!_

He was not gentle.

I'd teased him like he'd teased me, and we were both so close to the edge.

My scream caught in my throat when he impaled my pussy over his cock. I began moaning like a shameless hussy. I was my own kind of porn star.

His hips were pistoning me roughly, his hands were secured around my hips, and his mouth latched onto my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, and I screamed.

My Louboutin-clad feet were digging into his ass, just like he liked, and he drove into me harder, saying nothing, just grunting like an animal. He was panting roughly, brokenly, spitting out half-words and sounds that he wasn't aware were being produced.

My hands were running through his hair, I was kissing up and down his neck and collarbones.

I was so close.

He changed his angle, shoving his pubic bone against mine, hitting just the right spot inside me while grinding against my clit.

I was wild with pleasure.

And without warning, I snapped.

"YES! OH MY FUCKING GOD, YES! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

I couldn't scream loud enough. No amount of volume could express the sheer Nirvana I was reaching because of this gloriously sexual man.

His grunting got louder, and then he started moaning, making a gritty, rough sound before slamming his hips into mine and jerking erratically, pinning me against the wall with his body while he poured himself inside me hard.

We were both panting when he slid me back down the wall to my feet. I stumbled a bit, so he grabbed me and let me rest my weight against him while he moved us down the hall to our bedroom.

I barely took notice of the pictures from our wedding five months ago, of our respective families surrounding us at the reception, of the two of us throughout our relationship, of him down on one knee presenting me with a bright diamond and sapphire ring, of our entire life while he carted me to our bed.

I ran my fingers through his thick blond locks while I reached up and kissed him gently.

"I love you, Carlisle. So much."

He kissed me deeply before responding.

"Not as much as I love you, Bella. Not nearly as much."

"You should photograph me more often. It makes you such an aggressive lover."

He chuckled, "I'll keep that in mind, sweetheart."

**Fin.**


End file.
